


I Get Around

by pressdbtwnpages



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-02
Updated: 2011-12-02
Packaged: 2017-10-27 09:43:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/294363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pressdbtwnpages/pseuds/pressdbtwnpages
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martha and Eleven go adventuring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Get Around

**Author's Note:**

> Timey-wimey, wibbly-wobbly set in no particular part of canon. For [](http://silverweave.livejournal.com/profile)[**silverweave**](http://silverweave.livejournal.com/) for Advent 2011.

“Martha!” A youngish man in a bowtie calls out, not out of place on the streets of Brooklyn.

She stops and turns, trying to place him. He’s British, maybe a patient she treated a lifetime ago, back when she was a doctor, not working for UNIT? But then wouldn’t he be calling her ‘Doctor Jones’?

The guy has made it over to Martha and throws his arms around her in a bear hug.

There is no reason it should trigger her memory. He doesn’t smell the same - rather smells like grotty cologne, actually - or hug the same. Maybe she unconsciously feels the beat of twin hearts, but however it happens, she knows.

“Doctor,” she murmurs, burrowing closer for just a moment and then pulling back. “You’re looking... youthful.”

He laughs in loud gleeful gales. Martha tries to picture her Doctor doing that and can’t quite manage, but she likes it all the same.

“Martha, oh, Martha, I’ve missed you!” Hearing it makes her smile. “Have you got time for a quick spin?”

She thinks of the paperwork waiting for her, of her cat, and the groceries she is on her way to buy. To hell with them.

“I’ve got all the time in the world.”

The Doctor grins. He seems to have a great many teeth. “Thought that was my line.”

Martha slips her arm through his proffered one. “Maybe, but mine is ‘oooh, it’s bigger on the inside’ and I’ve already done that bit.”

The Doctor laughs and laughs. Martha’s never considered herself particularly funny, maybe a bit wry or clever, but she likes the way the Doctor seems tickled by her.

*

“Time?” the Doctor asks as he fiddles around the TARDIS’ controls, “Or Space? Or shall we let the TARDIS decide?”

“She usually does anyway,” Martha says absently, looking around. The TARDIS has changed. She looks like the interior of a vintage shop.

“Right you are, Martha Jones,” the Doctor agrees, flipping a lever. “Geronimo!”

*

They arrive in California in the 1960’s and while Martha likes a beach holiday as much as the next girl, she’d been hoping for a space trip. To a planet made of chocolate or something.

She does get a bikini that can only be described as groovy, though.

“Why are we here?” Martha asks as she and the Doctor stroll along the boardwalk eating ice pops.

“How should I know? Let’s try surfing!”

They do try surfing. Martha is bad at it, the Doctor is worse, but it’s worth it to see him catch a wave in Hawaiian print shorts with zinc on his nose.

He gets miserably sunburned and won’t stop whining about it.

“My _skin_ hurts. You’re a doctor, Martha Jones, can’t you _do_ something?” He asks, perching gingerly in a chair so that he doesn’t have to touch anything.

“You’re the Doctor,” Martha replies tartly. “Can’t you?”

He whimpers and splutters.

“I’ll prescribe you some SPF One Million for next time,” she says sympathetically after awhile.

“Is that a real thing?”

“No, but you are very pale. Or. You were.”

The Doctor just groans pitifully.

Martha watches him for a bit. It’s odd, seeing a new version of an old friend. This man is so very different from the man she loved, but she can still see a myriad ways they’re the same.

“You know,” she says after awhile, “if I had met you now, I don’t think I’d have fallen in love with you.”

The Doctor splutters and stammers. Martha waves him off.

“It’s okay. I’ve always liked you. I will always like you. You’re just... you’re not the same, is all.”

He looks back at her thoughtfully, “Neither are you, Martha Jones. Neither are you.”

“So, what do you think our case is?”

“Our case?” The Doctor repeats dubiously.

“The mission?”

“The mission?” The Doctor parrots. “I hope UNIT isn’t ruining you.”

“They aren’t.”

*

The case turns out to be an energy-starved species trying to harness the power of the earth’s oceans through some combination of ‘The Big One,’ and manipulating the moon to create a ‘50 year’ storm.

Martha bloody hates the damn moon.

The Doctor fixes everything with liberal applications of sunscreen, telling people “vaya con Dios,” and some rubber bands. Martha’s still not clear on the details.

*

When they arrive back in Regular Old New York, it’s two days before Martha left and she’ll have to spend her time hiding from herself.

“Well, Martha Jones, it’s been fun,” the Doctor tells her. “Even if you aren’t quite the same girl I remember.”

He winks.

“For me too. Remember not to pick at your sunburn. Just leave it, you’ll be fine in a couple of  
days.”

“Thank you.”

“And now, as they say-”

"Don’t say it," Martha warns. “Don’t say it!”

"Vaya con Dios!"

 _Vworrrp vworrrp._


End file.
